


Galra Exchange

by MizuLeKitten



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, During The Ten Thousand Year Skip, F/M, Fluff, Haggar Defending Herself, Well What's Fluff For Them I Guess, Zarkon Defending Haggar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 23:19:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11724681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizuLeKitten/pseuds/MizuLeKitten
Summary: He pondered for a moment; an idea striking. “Your most recent experiment, how does it go?”“Very well, Sire. I plan on holding another live experiment soon.”“How confident are you that it will succeed this time?” Zarkon continued to look at her.Haggar thought for a moment before meeting his gaze head on. “It will succeed.”His lips twitched, and Haggar grinned, as if expecting his next question. “Shall we show the rest of the Empire, nay, the universe, how they should fear not just my power, but yours as well?”





	Galra Exchange

**Author's Note:**

> Written Pre-Season 3 so like... yeah

Haggar moved down the hallway, silent as a ghost. Even in her sleep deprived state she was quiet, the only indication of her moving was the light swish of her robe. She had been up all night trying to find signs of the other Paladins, the traitors, and she was tired. Magic may not have been an inherently physical battle, but it certainly affected both body and mind.

She could feel her body ache with every movement.  _ Push through.  _ She would return to her chambers, rest, start again. She was no use to Zarkon dead.

She frowned. She also had nothing to show for her exhaustion either, so maybe she wasn’t useful either way. The only thing she had found was the location of several more groups of Alteans, groups that would soon no longer exist.

_ No,  _ she told herself,  _ finding the surviving Alteans was important.  _ **_They_ ** _ could reveal the Paladin’s, the lions, Alfor and his daughter. They had use. Her work was not in vain. _

She’d inform Zarkon, and in turn he would get the Alteans back to her. She had gotten some useful information from the last few that had been brought to her, obtained details of remaining troops, and locations of the scattered Altean fleet. They had  _ just _ missed the castle-ship with the new information.

_ Next time. _

She would not let herself think lesser of herself. She was strong, powerful, the key to the many achievements the quickly growing Empire had under it’s belt. She was pivotal. She would not be convinced otherwise of her position.

Footfalls echoed through the hallway, and Haggar looked up to see two soldiers on their rounds. She looked past them. Best to ignore than to acknowledge what she knew was to come.

She heard their whispered slurs as they walked by, low threats, and disgusted sounds. She knew what they thought upon seeing her: a traitorous race, disgusting and weak, faster to run away and hide than to fight with honor and dignity.

To be honest: she saw no reason to correct those assumptions.

Her people  _ had  _ been weak, useless, cowards. It’s why she had easily followed Zarkon in his rage against Altea, had easily come up with a weapon for them to use alongside their tech, why she hadn’t even bat an eye as her planet was blown apart…

Haggar, on the other hand, was not any of those things. She could stop, yell and scold, rip apart the soldiers with her own bare hands, or use even more of her magic, and receive no repercussions from Zarkon.

Alas, she didn’t.

She had time, time on her side that none of the Galra  _ or  _ Alteans had. She would outlive them. She would manipulate and craft an Empire to conquer them all. There was only one other that would join her, so she walked on, ignored their words, and made her way to her chambers, sure that she’d find her partner there.

~*~

“You’re back,” Zarkon stated from where he was surrounded by several holo-screens. He didn’t need to look to see who it was, only one other had access to this room without permission.

The soft sound of fabric brushing against itself made it's way closer to him, pausing by his side. “Yes, Sire,” Haggar said, “I’ve found the location of several more Altean groups. Their locations should already be plotted down on your map.”

Zarkon pulled up the map in question, nodding at the new entries, before closing the screen and looking back to the others. “Good, I will send out troops there shortly.”

“Make sure they bring some back, officers preferably, anyone of seemingly high rank. They may have knowledge on the location of Alfor and his daughter.” There was a hidden venom to Haggar’s words, as if the mention of the late king of Altea left bile in her throat.

Zarkon grunted in acknowledgment. They both had their hatred for the man, bonded over it, reveled in it. The sooner he was found, the sooner they could  _ both  _ get their revenge. Zarkon didn’t need to state that though, it was an unspoken agreement between them, one solidified during the fall of Altea.

Instead he moved on to other topics. “How are you adjusting to the Galra labs?” 

Haggar overlooked the screens before them, checking over reports that commanders had filed. “They are adequate for now.” She paused, “Although, I will need assistants soon, so that I may focus on more important work.”

“I will have some soldiers reassigned to aid you.” Haggar made no noise, no indication she had heard, so Zarkon looked over to her, noting the frown. “Unless there is something wrong with that?”

“Many of the Galra do not respect what I do, the art of my craft. They will not listen to me.” A dark look entered her eyes, and Zarkon knew that she had had another encounter recently.

The disdain came from her being Altean. Alteans were cowards, cowards who abandoned the Galra in their time of need. To have an Altean on his staff, working so, so closely to him, was insane. Zarkon would not have it any other way though, for he  _ knew  _ what she could accomplish, had seen it with his own eyes time and time again.

He pondered for a moment; an idea striking. “Your most recent experiment, how does it go?”

“Very well, Sire. I plan on holding another live experiment soon.”

“How confident are you that it will succeed this time?” Zarkon continued to look at her.

Haggar thought for a moment before meeting his gaze head on. “It will succeed.”

His lips twitched, and Haggar grinned, as if expecting his next question. “Shall we show the rest of the Empire, nay, the universe, how they should fear not just my power, but yours as well?”

“Wonderful idea, Sire.”

She was beautiful when she smiled, he thought. A beauty that others had scorned. No longer. No longer would she be scorned. They would fear her, fear her in every way, as they should have ages ago.

“Then let us rest, so you may prepare for your show.” He shut down the holodeck, and held out his hand to her.

Her hand looked dwarfed in his, and he was reminded of how small she truly was compared to him. He did not let it fool him into a sense of ownership, it was her power that allowed him to get this far.

He turned to their bed, ready to hold her in his arms once more. He had been waiting for her to return, as they had both been focused on more pressing matters. It had been a few cycles since they had had the opportunity to rest with one another, and he wished to make up for lost time.

After all, when they awoke next it would be to the task of preparing for her grand event.

~*~

The crowd cheered as the two prisoners squared off in the ring far below. Blood soaked the ground from the earlier battles, and the flowing wounds of the current occupants. Zarkon looked down at the arena from his throne, taking in the occupants forms, already well aware who the winner would be. His bored gaze scanned out amongst the crowd.

“Emperor Zarkon, does the current battle not please you?” One of the commander's voice loomed out from behind him.

“We can tell the Warden to end the match, send in a more worthy opponent for your grace’s eyes,” another one said.

He held up a hand. Was it bad that he had begun to forget their names? “No. The next match will be adequate.”

“Did you prepare the match yourself?”

“That must mean it will be a grand spectacle.”

“Of course, the Emperor would plan nothing less than such.”

All they did was talk. How he wished Haggar was here, for she understood the quality that silence held. Words did not need to be exchanged, for silence could hold a weight of it’s own. As if his thoughts had summoned her, she materialized next to him in a swirl of black smoke.

There was a cursed grumble from behind him, but it did not matter. They’d soon see, after all, everyone would see. It was why Haggar stood next to Zarkon, not back with those mongrels. She stood, hunched, yet proud, and watched the match come to a close. The one Zarkon predicted winning having slain the other.

He hoped that someday he’d find someone more unpredictable to watch. Maybe that was now? He had not seen Haggar’s project before the upcoming event. She did not need him hounding her to keep her on task, to ensure results. He could trust her to produce the results he needed on her own.

The crowd’s cheer slowly died down to a dull chatter as the corpse and the winner were taken away. A fresh coat of sand sprinkled across the bloodied battleground by some slaves. He could feel the anticipation rolling off Haggar in waves. She was just as excited as he was for this event, to prove herself not just to herself, but to the universe.

He couldn’t help but share the excitement.

The sounds of locks releasing filled the air, and the chatter began to rise in volume, changing from conversation to cheers once more. One of the entrances opened, and Zarkon leaned forward a bit in his throne.

It was beautiful.

“I infused the creature with both technology and my own magic,” Haggar’s voice flowed into his ears, loud enough that the commanders could heard as well, “to ensure that it was stronger than any others who could possibly possesse similar designs. I also set about rewiring it’s mind, but I fear that in that endeavour I may have broken it, instead of fixed it.”

There was a scraping of a chair, as one of the commanders  made their way in front of Zarkon, blocking his view of his warrior dominating the field.

“Emperor Zarkon, you can not be serious about this! This is no warrior, it is a monster, one that this witch,” they turned, spitting the word in Haggar’s face, “could just as easily turn upon us! You humor her far too much!”

Zarkon glared down at them, the fear from the other commanders filling his nostrils and making his lips curl in disgust. “Sit, neither I, nor Haggar, need to validate ourselves to you, or do you forget your place so easily?”

The commander had the right to look ashamed, but only for a moment. “Emperor Zarkon this has gone too far.”

“Enough.” Zarkon pressed a control on his throne, prompting several guards to enter the room. “If you are so opposed to Haggar’s creation, defeat it. End it’s life and prove to me that she is as worthless as you think she is, that she is just an object to be humored.”

The commander looked wide eyed at him, guards coming to flank them on either side. They had the dignity to follow without making a fuss, but Zarkon could practically see the fear coming off them as they were escorted away.

It was silent around him, the cheers from around them filling in the tenseness of the situation that just passed.

“Do you have that much confidence in my creation?” Haggar asked, her voice low, so only he could hear.

“Of course, as should you.”

He looked back down. There were already several mangled corpses littering the field. By the time his commander was placed in the ring blood soaked the ground a new. There were a few moments of terse silence, some of the crowd recognizing the Galra in the ring, before the cheers renewed, louder than before.

It was honestly sad how quickly his former commander lay dead on the field, sad how much fear rolled from the commanders behind him, sad that this is what his elite were resigned to.

“Weakness and insubordination will not be tolerated.” Zarkon said, voice final. “Leave.”

The generals quickly dispersed, a scattering of Vrepit Sa’s following in their wake.

“Are you content with your results?” He watched as the creature was fed more fodder to slay.

“No.There are places for improvement, and it  _ will  _ improve.”

Yes. It was Haggar’s determination, her loyalty, that made Zarkon love her all the more. Her words were wise and true, her advice never leading him astray. It was due to her loyalty that they had been able to strike that first devastating blow upon Altea.

 

Too bad that 10,000 years of living, of leading an empire, of getting so close to the Black Lion only to have it snatched away, would make him forget how wise she was.


End file.
